Wotcher, Wolfie!
by nymphxdora
Summary: No one expected them to end up together. They didn't quite see it coming either. The tragic love story of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, from start to finish.
1. Forgotten

**I. FORGOTTEN**

" _Love isn't something that you find. Love is something that finds you."_

-Loretta Young

She doesn't remember their first encounter. He quite thought he'd forgotten as well. But when she stumbles into Hogwarts along with the other Order members, new and old, he recognizes her instantly. Sure, her appearance has changed, but she's just the same as she'd been, all those years ago.

.oOo.

They met on a summer's day when the First Wizarding War was still raging, causing devastation across the country. It was unusually cold for that time of year, and he'd had to wear his thick robes and woolen scarf before heading out. He was to visit James and Sirius at the Potters' house, which Sirius too now called home. He missed his friends—although he saw them frequently enough, it was often at Order meetings, where there was little time for fun.

He missed the early days of their friendship, when they had been carefree and hadn't had the weight of the world on their shoulders.

He knocked on the solid, wooden door and Sirius opened it, his face breaking out into a huge smile. He was about to say something when a little, pink blur raced out into the open screaming, "Freedom!"

"What was _that_?" Remus asked, whipping around.

Sirius rolled his eyes. " _That_ would be my _annoying_ little cousin, Nymphadora."

"I'm not annoying!" came an indignant shout from behind a particularly large potted plant. "And _don't_ call me, Nymphadora!"

"If I promise not to call you Nymphadora, will you come out?"

"Shan't."

Sirius put his hands on his hips. "Tonks, come on, your mum said you had to stay inside."

"Mum's _boring_."

"Tell you what, you come inside, and I'll get James to let you play with his Snitch. How about that, Tonks? A real golden Snitch!"

"Really?"

"Yes!"

"Fine."

A little girl walked out from behind the potted plant. She had a round face, large brown eyes, high cheekbones and most notably, bubblegum pink hair. Remus noted the last trait with a start—the girl couldn't have been more than four or five. What could she possibly be doing with hair that shade?

"Do you want to introduce yourself, Tonks?" Sirius asked her, gesturing to Remus.

She approached him tentatively, and he knelt down so that he could meet her eye gaze. "Hi there," he said, warmly. "I'm Remus Lupin. Sirius and I are friends."

"I'm Tonks," she said. "Just Tonks."

"Hello Tonks. I like your hair."

"Do you?" The little girl brightened and ran her chubby fingers through her bubblegum locks. "My mummy _hates_ it! She wants my hair to be a nice, _normal_ colour. Like brown." She wrinkled up her nose.

"Tonks is a Metamorphmagus," Sirius explained.

"Yup!" the little girl exclaimed. "Want to see?" Closing her eyes in concentration, she changed her hair from pink to yellow, to green and then back to pink. Opening her eyes again, she grinned and exclaimed, "Ta daa!"

Sirius laughed and applauded. "Very good, Tonksie. Now why don't you go inside and find James, hey?"

The little girl nodded and ran inside. Remus watched her go with great interest. "She's got quite the personality, doesn't she, Padfoot?"

"Sure does," Sirius said, gesturing for Remus to enter the house and closing the door behind him. "She's Andromeda's daughter—remember my cousin, Andromeda? I babysit Tonks whenever her mum's out. Droma doesn't like taking her places—she's afraid that Tonksie here will be a bit of a target. You know, blood traitor and all."

"Tonks doesn't seem to share that fear," Remus noted.

"Nah." Sirius shook his head. "She's fearless."

.oOo.

They meet for the second time when Kingsley introduces her to Remus. "Nymphadora Tonks," he tells him. "She's one of our top Aurors."

"Don't call me Nymphadora," she snaps at Kingsley, and Remus knows immediately that all the fire she had as a child, all that personality, is still there. She still has the same high cheekbones, the same wide eyes, and, he is surprised to note, the same shade of bubblegum pink hair. She smiles at Remus and shakes his hand. "I just go by Tonks. It's nice to meet you, Mr.—er, Mr.—er, Mr. what, exactly?"

He is almost disappointed to note that there is no recognition in her eyes.

"Remus," he says. "Remus Lupin." He wonders whether to add that they have met, but he decides against it. He doesn't want to make it awkward for her, doesn't want her to struggle to remember a brief encounter that has probably been long forgotten. So he settles for, "I'm friends with Sirius," hoping that maybe, that will spark her memory.

It doesn't.

"Oh!" she says. "Oh, that's nice. You might've met my mum then, Andromeda Tonks? She used to be Andromeda Black."

He'd met Andromeda on the same day that he'd met Nymphadora, when she'd come to pick her up. She had been formal, regal and a little distant, but had clearly possessed a great fondness for her daughter. "Only briefly," he tells Tonks. "She probably doesn't remember me."

"She has a _great_ memory," Tonks reassures him. "Unlike me. I'm always forgetting things."

At this, she looks at Remus and cocks her head slightly. "Funny, are you sure _we've_ never met before? You look awfully familiar."

He smiles and shakes his head. "No. No, I don't think so."

* * *

 _Written for the 'Battleships' challenge on Diagon Alley II. Prompt: First Encounter_


	2. Soap

**II. SOAP**

Later, he would often think that their relationship was rather odd, in that it was always out of order.

He wouldn't be able to explain it, but it would seem as if things always happened in an unusual way, in reverse. If asked for a particular event to explain what he meant, he would always talk about their first kiss. Usually, a kiss came after a date. But for them, it came before.

.oOo.

It's the Christmas holidays—the first Christmas holidays after Voldemort's return. Harry, Hermione and the Weasley children have returned from Hogwarts, and Grimmauld Place is practically overflowing with people. It's good for Sirius, Remus thinks—after all, he's always cooped up alone in this mansion filled with memories he'd rather forget. But Remus himself doesn't like being constantly surrounded by people.

He's always been one of the solitary types, the kind who prefers to sit in on a Sunday night with a warm cup of tea and a particularly good book. It's something he became accustomed to during the thirteen years he spent alone in his tiny London apartment, two best friends dead and one in Azkaban. He rarely went out during those years, for there was no one to meet.

The revival of the Order has changed all that. It's like he has a family again, people who he can trust, people whose company he can enjoy. And he loves it, he does, but sometimes it all gets too much and he needs his time alone again, just a few moments.

That's why he volunteers to do the dishes that night. Kreacher's been caught sneaking off with the silverware, so Sirius has stopped him from washing up. Remus seizes the opportunity— it'll give him valuable time alone. So he's somewhat surprised when he ventures into the kitchen and sees someone already standing over the sink.

Tonks looks up and grins at him. "I thought I'd help," she says. "We can get it done faster if there are two of us."

He ignores the strange, bubbly feeling in his stomach that he's been getting a lot lately. He's spent a lot of time with the pink-haired witch—they've been paired up often on patrols or on other Order business, and he thinks he's gotten to know her fairly well. She's a lovely person, full of life and lots of fun. And she isn't biased—she found out about his affliction not long after they met and to her credit, she's never treated him differently because of it.

 _She's a good friend_ , he thinks. _Nothing more_.

He's been telling himself this a lot lately and that itself is evidence enough that it is not 'nothing more'. Every time he looks at her, he notices something different about her, from the way the sides of her eyes crinkle when she smiles, to the way her nose twitches slightly when she finds something funny. And every new observation sends a shivery feeling down his spine, weighs heavily on his stomach.

But he ignores it. What else can he do? He's too dangerous, too old, too poor. Even if he's not being fully honest with himself about his feelings for her, he knows that he wants her to be happy.

He's been silent a long while and he supposes he's got a bit of an odd look on his face because she cocks her head at him and says, "Are you okay with that? I mean, I can go if you'd rather do them alone?"

"Huh?" He's startled and breaks out of his thoughts. "No. No, I mean, it's fine. I don't mind."

"Here, I'll wash and you dry." She hands him a dripping plate and taking out his wand, he casts a spell that dries it instantly.

"I'm surprised Molly's letting you do the dishes at all," he comments. Her clumsiness has become something of a legend around the house and she's rarely trusted with any kind of household chores that involve breakables.

"She doesn't know," Tonks replies with a slight blush. He notices the way that the colour remains localized—it stays on her cheeks and doesn't spread to other parts of her face. "I thought maybe if I didn't break anything, I could prove to her that I can be useful around the house."

"Admirable."

"So I'm trying to be extra careful."

As she says this, she hands him a tall glass, the kind that's got patterns intricately carved into the crystal and looks as if it cost a fortune. The soap hasn't been completely washed off, and suds still linger on its exterior. As Remus grasps it, Tonks lets go and it slides from his hand and shatters on the marble floor.

She stares at the glass with wide eyes. "Oh, crud." She points her wand towards the glass and attempts to use 'Reparo' to put it back together again. The pieces spring together in a semblance of their original shape before crumbling to the floor again.

"That's okay." Remus is quick to placate her, whipping out his wand and muttering, ' _Reparo_ ' under his breath. The glass springs back together and stays that way. "It was all my fault." He picks up the glass and places it safely on the counter-top.

"No, it wasn't," she admonishes him. "It was all mine—didn't get the soap off, did I? Gosh, why am I so useless?"

He doesn't think she's useless, not at all. In fact, she's already proven herself quite use _ful_ , gaining the Order key intel and proving instrumental in patrols. Her morphing skills have come in handy more than once and he's sure that they'll continue to do so, particularly if they ever need to infiltrate any kind of secure building or organization.

"You aren't," he tells her, matter-of-factly.

"You're too nice," she says playfully. "No, really, I can't do any kind of household chores. My mother wonders how I'm going to land myself a husband if I can't even wash the dishes without breaking something."

"My mother had quite the same issue." Remus grins. "I was hopeless at laundry when I was young. She didn't know I was going to get myself a wife."

"We can grow old together," she suggests, laughing. "Be like those ladies who lives with lots of cats, except we'll have each other _as well_ as all the cats."

He shudders. "I hate cats."

"No!" she exclaims. "How can you _hate_ cats?"

"They're such deceptive little creatures!"

She throws soap suds at him.

"Hey!" he shouts. "Just because I don't like cats?" He gathers up some of the foam from the sink and launches it back at her, along with a few drops of icy water. She lets out a scream.

"You take that back!" She launches more soap at him

"You started it!"

She starts scrambling for more soap in the sink, so he exclaims, "Watch out, you'll break the plates!"

"I'll break them anyway!"

"That's likely."

"Hey!" she shouts, but a wicked smile appears on her face. "You know, now that you mention being bad at laundry, that shirt of yours really does need a wash."

He realizes what she's about to do. "Tonks, no."

With a devilish laugh, she points her wand at him and releases a stream of icy cold water. It hits him square in the chest, drenching him, and he yells out. "That's cold!"

"It's supposed to be!"

"Give me that wand!"

"Never!"

He doesn't quite know what he's doing, but suddenly he's chasing her around the kitchen as she runs away from him, laughing. Her wand is pointing all over the place, drenching the walls and the floor and even her.

He finally catches hold of her, his arms around her waist and she collapses against him, laughing, out of breath. They're both soaked, their clothes stuck to their skin, their hair stringy and divided. She turns to face him and suddenly, it hits him just how close she is to him.

The intimacy of their situation seems to have struck her as well and her smile fades a little. Her eyes meet his and linger there for a long moment and before he knows what he's doing, he's kissing her.

He doesn't quite know what possessed him to do it; all he knows that it feels right. She quickly responds to the kiss—her arms wrap around his neck, her hands are in his hair just as his are in hers. He's not sure how long they stay like that, but eventually they pull apart and he realizes what he's done.

He knows instantly that it's a mistake. How can she love him? The same chorus of voices plays in his head—he's too old, too poor, too dangerous. So when she says, "Remus", he averts his gaze.

"I have to go." The words come out quickly, garbled. He turns and leaves her standing there, in the middle of the chaotic kitchen.

It's better for both of them this way, he tells himself.

He knows, deep down, that it's a lie.


End file.
